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Yet some things, besides the irregularity of my postings, remain consistent - like my teeth. Not the number necessarily, but the way they continue to pull focus like petulant children. Suffering no uncertain (which is to say certain), and growing, pain, I obligatorily put off calling my dental S.W.A.T. team and instead busied myself with thoughts of mouth cancer, lifelong loneliness, and physical decrepitude. I can't remember for how long exactly I did this, but long enough certainly to stop doing it almost immediately upon realising that madness had become me.
Then, in a two-minute burst I managed to call my dentist, my endodontist, my oral and maxillofacial pathologist and radiologist, my team of specialist dentofacialorthodontic orthopaediologists - and my specialist periodontic prosthodontist. (Or is that last one a dinosaur? The person who answered the phone said he was extinct now, in any case.)
I greeted my regular dentist (Dr C), prepared this time not only with a list of symptoms, but a loosely bulleted counter-speech for the oral moralising I would surely get, another episode of the all-too-regular over-investment of my dentist in an area of my head for which I have undoubtedly shown insufficient care, but for which - even now - I cannot bring myself to invest in much more than I do in almonds. I blanch (no doubt, punningly) at the thought of a dentist being upset with me, or about me, or skulking around the surgery with some ill-defined mix of the two. I hate the feeling like I might have to call Dr C after hours and say: "Do you want to talk about my teeth? I think a lot went on in the surgery today that you're bottling up. I know you're disappointed in my gums. I saw it in your eyes." She'd be drinking.
Me: Are you drunk?
Her: No.
Me: What were you thinking about before I called? My teeth?
Her: I don't want to talk about it right now.
To avoid these kinds of scenarios, in my rebuttal I was going to point out our relative priorities, about how I thought teeth were important, but yet how I conceived of matters differently to her - not just in this domain, but many others as well. I needn't elaborate now because I didn't get the opportunity then.
Something had changed. She walked in late - tall, glamorous, chatting and laughing on her mobile, like she'd just stepped off a plane - most likely her private jet. She squeezed in a quick, desultory look at my mouth, insulted me with a prescription for amoxycillin, and then said I'd "be good for the weekend." She even winked at me as I left the surgery. How dare she! It was as if she no longer cared. And what exactly did she expect to do with my counter-speech? And all those teeth she'd left me with? I may have to call her after all.
Thankfully this is not the end of the matter. I still have my appointment with another practitioner of the dental arts on the 20th of this month, in the city. I hope at least he has the gall to take my mouth personally. We'll see.
flemoh
ReplyDeletesorry to hear you're having tooth problems again. i will have my 3rd and final root canal treatment on next wednesday. i can really recommend this guy, the root canal endodontist fellow, marcus something. "he works wonders" etc.
if you want i'll send thru his details.
your new blog entry is as riotously funny as ever.
your obsession with your dentist - and your putting of a great deal of effort into coming up with rebuttals to her imagined criticisms of your dental (mis)management - does point to the basic fact that actually, nobody cares about your teeth except you. (and me of course, I care. but i have limited influence except cheering or jeering from the sidelines of your blog). I mean, we all care of course, but nobody is at the wheel of the flemo worldwide industries dental cruise ship, except flemo.
take charge, dammit! steer that vessel towards the straights of dental stability!
Luco,
ReplyDelete1) She USED to care.
2) I didn't specify how much I like almonds.
3) Perhaps, on reflection, the guy's number WOULD be good (- although I suspect I'd probably only undertake root-canal recreationally.)
4) Nice talking.
You know, I forgot to mention this, but when I saw Dr. C a few weeks back, she also walked in late, looking unspeakably glamorous- and YES- EXACTLY as if she had stepped off a private jet. And you know my teeth were great. Sensational. I expected tears of joy. Or at the very least a small- but heartfelt little snuggle. But nothing. Just an appointment for six months time and a brisk 'you did very well' (with the clean) Something is indeed awry.She doesn't care anymore. It's not just you Flem. She's found something else.
ReplyDeletethis is the guy
ReplyDeletehttp://www.dentist.com.au/dentistdetail.lasso?id=3147
Mindy, now I know that my own experience is part of a broader pattern, I'm denied the possibility of even taking her impersonality personally. It's settled: she has a jet.
ReplyDeleteLuco, I think you know exactly what's going on here and you're not telling us - all this talk about new dentists and solutions to problems seems somehow beside the point. Are you perchance the jet?
Hey, don't worry too much about remembering what you've been up to in the annuals of memory. I forgot how old I actually was for a couple of years... that mid-thirties life crisis [or senility].
ReplyDeleteIrregular blogging, I'll say... better than non-existent, as in my case.
Dental issues, again huh?
As for the deliverance of a well rehearsed and thought-out rebuttal, of which you were so ignomoniously denied... I had a "slight" disagreement on vUWS discussion with a fellow student which might ellaborate on such inference.
She accused me of making generalised statements when I stated that our society is, generally speaking, pretty insecure. I hit back with "Everyone's a little schizophrenic." I doubt it went down too well, (I haven't checked, but I can imagine the hornet's nest I've kicked over there). She, and others, really love making the "ignorance being the issue" statement, to explain... whatever (that one never ends), and I countered with it being arrogance, not ignorance, which appears more prevalent ('nother bees nest).
So, where am I going with all this? Well, those studies are for Intercultural pragmatics, but your situation appears relevant to intradental pragmatics. And getting flustered when being ignored by the dentist, being denied your due, it's all in your head, Chris, teeth and self created stress.
Just be secure in your acceptance of the fact that we're all a little insane. (Not sure mentioning the wink you got from her was oh so wise, good luck with that).